


Sunlight on Snow

by Cali_se



Category: Latter Days (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-04
Updated: 2011-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cali_se/pseuds/Cali_se
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Christian had always hated cold weather...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunlight on Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in Jan 2010, in response to a small fandom fic challenge. My prompt: In the sun

Christian had always liked warm weather; it was the opposite to cold weather, for a start, and for Chris that could have been reason enough.

But it was more than that.

It was going to the beach to sunbathe: marvelling at the untamed waves, the vast expanse of sky, the freedom; feeling the sun on him, turning him brown as a berry as it played with the sea breeze.

It was lying on striped bath towels in the garden with Julie, smelling of sun lotion, eyes shielded behind dark glasses.

Sometimes it was lazing on a pool float after a swim, with his wet hair smoothed back and his glistening limbs drying off in the heat, the sun’s rays making his tanned skin tingle.

It represented a life in which you never had to feel the cold because you were always surrounded by people; a life where the colours and the palm trees made it feel like a constant vacation, and where a cold drink and a hot fuck were never far from reach.

And Christian had always thought that was enough.

Until, one bright morning in the garden, the sun shone and lit up a pair of earnest eyes, making them sparkle.

~*~

Christian had always hated cold weather, and it wasn’t because he couldn’t wear tiny shorts and tan without a spray can, whatever Andrew said.

It was so much more than that.

It was brutal, icy winds that hurt the skin, and the weird, strained faces he just _knew_ he pulled whenever he battled against them.

It was standing and shivering like a nervous child, keeping his arms folded tight against his chest as though trying to keep himself safe.

It was the blinding glare of the snow as it lay thick on the ground, and the confusing swirl of a blizzard; and how it felt to Christian as though nature was devising countless ways to torture him.

It was paleness, frailty; and a vast expanse that didn’t feel a bit like freedom.

More than anything, it was getting lost, being afraid, feeling abandoned; ultimately, it was losing yourself.

And, for a long time, that was all it was.

Until one cold night in Salt Lake, when the snow fell like confetti on a head of fair hair, dusting it with diamonds.

~*~

It’s colder than cold! And Christian still can’t quite believe how much fun he’s having on this vacation.

He brushes sprinklings of powdery snow from his heavy black overcoat and looks across at Aaron, whose face is happy and flushed with mischief.

They’ve been building a snowman for an hour or more (between stolen kisses and snow ball fights), complete with buttons, nose and eyes, and a huge grin. It is the first snowman either of them have made since they were children. Christian had never liked the feel of snow on his hands before. But today… today he can bear it.

They stand back for a moment to look at their handiwork in silent appreciation. Aaron nods and smiles his approval, and holds out his hand. Christian takes it, and they trudge together through the snow, all muffled up in coats, hats and scarves.

Christian sees sparkles in the snow as they walk along hand in hand. It looks so beautiful in the sun, as if thousands of tiny stars have fallen down from the sky. He feels as though he’s walking in an enchanted place, miles and miles away from his day to day existence. Today, here with Aaron, the snow looks welcoming and the chill air feels like a strange cocoon around his body. He doesn’t feel afraid; instead, he feels protected. And free.

~*~

Christian has never known warmth quite like this. It seems to hold him, somehow, like a pair of loving arms. The golden firelight dances, and his face tingles to its touch.

Now a pair of real arms are holding him, enveloping him from behind; he leans back, letting them wrap themselves more tightly around him. Soft lips are at his neck, opening and closing into kisses that send pleasure through his body. Christian turns, and meets those lips with his own. His hands move up to caress Aaron’s flushed cheeks, and then further up to remove his woollen hat. The hair that is revealed is ruffled, as though Aaron has just woken up, bringing countless erotic memories into Christian’s mind: Aaron, in the morning, sleepy, sensuous and yielding, bright as sunshine and soft as snow…

He eases Aaron gently down onto the hearth rug, all the while his lips answering Aaron’s, his body yearning for Aaron’s; his love for Aaron coursing through his veins.

Outside, the moon is full, the cold air is still, and fresh white flakes are falling slowly to the ground. But it’s cosy in their cabin, and the hearth’s rich heat continues to envelope them and keep them warm as they undress each other slowly, tenderly, with a restraint that belies their passion.

Once naked, they make love with mouths and tongues, hands and fingers. Their eyes close in bliss for long moments and then open again, to watch, hazy and wanton. Teeth bite lower lips as arousal becomes a desperate, aching need; mouths slip in and out of contact, fingers lock and unlock; hot breath mingles with hot breath…

Sweat builds between them as they cling to one another, connected at every point. Christian gazes longingly at Aaron’s closed eyes, willing them to open. When they do, tenderness and desire swell in his heart. He quickens his pace, bit by bit, until he’s thrusting fast and deep, and Aaron is moaning and clutching his arms, his eyes drifting closed again, and his mouth opening on a sigh.

They lie for a while afterwards, silent and still, as their pulses quieten and their hearts slow down.

The clock ticks away the seconds, taking night into morning.

Chris grabs the covers and pillows from their bed. Their mouths find each other again once they’re tucked in, briefly touching, pressing gently. Then Christian keeps an eye on the fire as Aaron dozes in his arms, his breathing turning slow and steady, his body warm.

As they cuddle up, there in their little winter cabin, it feels to Christian as though nothing else exists except for the two of them, and the log fire burning beside them and the snow falling gently and silently outside.

And he smiles at the thought of another new day in the sun, and hopes the snow will last.


End file.
